


Voidborne

by Fuuma_san



Series: The Costs of Production [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha!Aziraphale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Background Sexual Slavery, Birth, Crowley Whump (Good Omens), Crowley is still Crawly, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Metaphysical pregnancy only, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega!Crowley, Pregnancy, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, not the world only angels and demons are A/B/O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuuma_san/pseuds/Fuuma_san
Summary: So, as Crawly saw it, he had two choices: Die in an exploding fireball of stored flames of creation, or get an alpha to help him use their spark to bring it into being, exposing himself as an omega, forcing him to live the rest of eternity imprisoned as demonic breeding chattel in the bowels of Hell. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Damned in general, really, being a demon and all.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Costs of Production [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749496
Comments: 7
Kudos: 121
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	Voidborne

**Author's Note:**

> I've tagged for non-con because it exists in the world, no non-con happens in this fic, though it will later in the series. 
> 
> You don't need to know anything about A/B/O for this fic, and there are some important differences to the way it works in this world than in other fics that change the dynamics of it.

Angels were genderless, unless they put in effort otherwise, but this was mostly because the entire purpose of gender was for perpetuating mortal life. Angels existed in perpetua, so that wasn’t much of a concern, therefore they had no need for sex or gender (except recreationally). Mortals needed to procreate _,_ and gendered sex worked great for those minor variations on their existing themes. Angels needed the ability to _create_. Angels were in charge of making rocks or songbirds or whole nebulae, for example, which was a little more complex and diverse a skill set. Creating required different angels working together, in a gender-like way, however, you couldn't compare the birds and the bees to, well, inventing birds and bees. 

The Almighty, being the alpha and omega, could just pop anything She desired into existence, but it took more than one angel working together to do the same. Those with the spark of creation had to flit about, back and forth from the Almighty to verify what they’d conceptualized and get approval, then imbue it within another angel who held the flame of creation so they could forge it from raw firmament, and lastly they both had to work together to breathe a spark of life into it to bring it into existence. Then angels who had neither spark nor flame of creation usually took over, placing it in the world, making copies, nurturing and growing and giving small alterations. Every tree, alloy, and insect on earth had at least three angels involved in its creation.

Crawly wasn't an angel anymore, but demons hadn't changed so fundamentally that creating worked any different. The problem here was that the war had mucked up everyone’s priorities. Hell didn’t create anything but more hell and more demons. 

Worse, Hell had taken these _abilities_ and twisted them into _categories_ , strata to lock demons in their place. There were very few who retained anything divine in origin after their grace was ripped from them during the fall, but those who _had_ retained the spark of creation were designated as alphas, those who retained the flame of creation as omegas, and the rest as betas. Hell was so desperate to make new demons in order to bring about Armageddon and finally overpower Heaven, it seized any omegas it could, angelic or demonic, and imprisoned them in the deepest parts of Hell, to be used as chattel breeding stock and otherwise violated by the upper echelon alphas for pleasure.

Only through luck had Crawly, an omega, managed to avoid that fate. When the war had broken out, Crawly had just started spinning his flame into creating a new star, and when he’d fallen he hadn’t lost it. But that had been centuries ago, and he had been pouring every bit of his flame into growing that star ever since so that Hell thought he was just another flame-less, spark-less beta. His proto-star had grown so massive and over-sized inside his essence that he was starting to break apart from the inside out because of it and could barely even perform miracles anymore. It had gotten so bad, he was thinking it would destroy him. Not just discorporate, but break him from the inside out and obliterate him. 

So, as Crawly saw it, he had two choices: Die in an exploding fireball of stored flames of creation, or get an alpha to help him use their spark to bring it into being, exposing himself as an omega, forcing him to live the rest of eternity imprisoned as demonic breeding chattel in the bowels of Hell. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Damned in general, really, being a demon and all. 

Which was why he was currently laying face down on the side of the road, half buried in mud, reassessing himself and trying to decide what to do. He had no idea how long he’d been there, at this point, but it was clear he definitely wasn’t going to last another month, much less a year. The pain was intense, nearly as bad as falling had been and it seemed to be interfering with his connection to his body now. He’d been on his way to a new thing called a city that the humans were building (there were so many of them now), but then it had started to rain, and the cold seeped into him, and he’d collapsed.

It had kept raining. Fortunately he didn’t need to breathe, and he hadn’t tried to, but not breathing was draining the precious few resources he needed to keep himself together. So he struggled to clear his airway of the muck. He’d managed to turn his head, but rolling over was apparently beyond his capabilities, as was raising his hand to his face to wipe it. 

The rain conveniently washed his face for him, at least, so he just laid there and let it till he could draw breath through his nose. 

“Oh my Lord, are you alright?” a voice suddenly called out, though Crawly’s eyes were still covered in muck and water and so he couldn’t see where it was coming from. “Goodness, all alone way out here?” He felt someone gently grab his shoulder and roll him over. “You’re not dead yet but I don’t think that’s going to last if you stay like this, you poor—” 

Crawly heard the voice cut off in a loud gasp.

“ _Crawly_?! Is that you? What in the world has you in such a state?”

Crawly cracked an eye open, trying to focus on the shadow hovering over them. Rain kept running into his eyes, so all he saw was a white blur against the grey skies.

“Oh. Oh dear… Oh my… I’m really not sure what to do here. Are you injured? Do you need healed? Oh no, what if... You _are_ a demon. Is this some sort of trick?” 

Crawly tried to speak, but all that came out was a choking cough. 

“Oh… I’m going to see if I can heal whatever’s wrong with you, and just hope this isn’t some sort of demonic plan, God help me.”

Crawly felt the heat of divinity brush up against his bloated essence, cracking it. He screamed well past when he ran out of breath, his whole body seizing, and then he fell into darkness. 

* * *

After the shock of finding a downed demon, Aziraphale reached out but his ethereal touch alone caused the the demon to rear up in horrible contortions, screaming, as wounds just sort of sliced open all over his body before he mercifully slumped back to the ground, boneless and insensate. 

Aziraphale was terrified he'd just killed his first demon. 

He didn't know what to do. If he hadn't killed Crawly already, the demon was clearly in a bad way and getting worse, and yet he dare not try any further miracles on him. 

"Lets… um… let's start with the obvious. You'll discorporate at the very least if we don't get you somewhere warm and dry and get those wounds to stop bleeding. Right, um, where...?" He trailed off and stepped away from the demon, worried proximity might be a problem before performing a miracle to make a small wooden shack to appear off the path. The demon didn't seem to get any worse, so he went inside, miracled up a fire, some warm furs as a pallet and a tub full of hot water. He thought this would be adequate, so returned to fetch the demon and bring him inside.

First order was to get him clean, dry and warm, so he started by stripping off the demon's robes and using them to scrape as much filth off as he could before gently placing him into the tub. With care and reverence he bathed the demon, gently cleaning his wounds without causing more pain, brushing the mud from his hair. Color started to return to his lips as he warmed up and the bleeding slowed. Afterwards, Aziraphale conjured dressings to press to the wounds till the bleeding stopped, one wound at a time, then wrapped Crawly up in the furs to rest. 

The demon was breathing again, and the steady rise and fall of his chest reassured Aziraphale that he hadn't killed the poor thing. 

Then and only then did it occur to him that Heaven was not going to like this. Heaven was going to think he should have killed the demon on sight, no succor or mercy for the fallen. Instead he'd performed several miracles and even attempted to heal him, poorly though that went. 

He should probably leave immediately, but he couldn't bring himself to. The demon was vulnerable, and worse off now than before, which was all Aziraphale's fault. 

After several hours Crawly stirred, coughing weakly before cracking open one eye. 

"Hello again," said Aziraphale. 

The demon blinked, and stared for a few quiet moments.

"I, um… we’ve met before, on the wall of Eden? My name is Aziraphale. I uh, found you.”

The demon’s eyes swiveled to look around.

“I brought you here. It’s… I suppose it’s my house. I was afraid you would discorporate if I left you bleeding in the rain.”

“Bleeding?” 

Aziraphale felt a flush of embarrassment heat his face. “I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wanted to heal you but when I touched your essence you, um, you reacted poorly. Opposing natures and all that, I suppose.”

“My essence…” Crawly closed his eyes, concentrating for a moment. His eyes flew open in a panic.

“M’dangerous. Breaking.” he seemed to be struggling to flee, but it mostly resulted in sluggish squirming. “I need to get away.” The futility of his movements seemed to frustrate him and he turned pleading eyes to Aziraphale. “Angel, you need to get me away from it all.”

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you. No one here will hurt you anymore.”

“No,” The demon growled, “I’m the danger. I’ll hurt everything.”

“Oh well, you may be a demon but I don’t think you really have it in you at the moment to do much of anything.” Aziraphale answered with a huff of laughter.

“No! I’m dying and when I go, you and this whole planet might go up with me. I don’t wanna take out all of humanity, so you need to banish me, far, far away.”

“Truely?”

“Yesssssssss.”

“Oh dear me, we can’t have that. But I don’t want to just” Aziraphale waved his hand, “you to your death. Let me save you?”

It was Crawly’s turn to snort. “Can’t. Waited too long. Can’t be helped. No choice.”

“At least tell me what’s wrong.”

The demon bit his lip, hesitating. 

“Please? I want to at least try. I promise if there is honestly no way to save you I’ll make sure you end up very far away, like you asked.”

The demon deflated. 

“Full. M’full up. Too full, gonna burst. No alpha to stop it, rather die than let the other demons find out anyway. Looked for another option too long, no choice now. I’m splitting open, and when I do all the way it’ll burn it all up and I’ll die.”

Aziraphale was confused, and didn’t know where to start. What was an alpha? Why was death better than the other demons? But all he managed to say out loud was— “Full?”

“Full.”

“Of what?”

“Creation.”

Creati— “Oh! Oh dear, you’re forging flames of creation, then?”

“Ye-p,” he said, popping the p.

“But you’re too full of it now.” Crawly nodded. “I didn’t think demons could create anymore, that’s a rather divine gift… And you’re in need of an alpha— wait, do you mean someone who has the spark of creation to help you release it?” More nodding. “Ah ha! I understand now! Well, why don’t you just burn it off with a heat?”

“Do… do what now?”

“You know, have a heat?” Yellow slitted eyes stared at him without comprehension. Aziraphale pondered this for a moment, then, “Oh dear, angels only started doing that after the war, didn’t they. Do demons not know how or can you just not?” 

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Well, I don’t have the flame so I don’t know if I can explain this well, having only second hand knowledge but uh… As I understand it those with the flame who needed to burn some of it off without creating something, they ah, embrace the flame in their essence and draw it to their corporations. It makes them more human and like a mortal for a time, and then their bodies go into a heat, which burns it out and so then they can go back to normal, after.”  
  
“Embrace the flame?”

“That’s what they say, yes. Does that make any sense to you?”

There was a very long pause before Crawly replied with a long, drawn out “Eh.” His eyebrows drew down and he frowned. “I don’t think I can, this time. Too much, already forged.”

“Well exactly how much flame are we talking about?” The demon mumbled something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“C- couple… um… couple hundred years…”

“ _Centuries_ worth?! _Multiple centuries_ worth?!” Crawly nodded. “Good Lord in Heaven. Oh, no wonder you're bursting, it’s a miracle you haven’t already. What could possibly use that much flame?”

``'S a sssssstar. Really big one, now.”

“A star.”

“Y- Yeah. Sorta. At this point, I’m pretty sure if it did come into existence it would, um, well it would immediately explode and collapse into a supermassive black hole,"

“Good God almighty.”

The demon grimaced. “Stop tattling to mum.”

Aziraphale bit back another prayer. Well, bit his lip to keep from saying it out loud. Silently he prayed harder than he may ever have before. _She_ had to know what to do, and she certainly needed to be made aware of the danger here, that this one demon posed to her favored creation. 

He received no reply.

“Guess this is just up to me then. Let me think.” Which he did, studiously but interspersed with small, silent prayers to God for guidance, to not mess this one up, to have another angel show up to help. “Is there anything different about demonic creation than angelic creation that I should know about?” 

“Not that I know of. Haven’t actually created anything else, since.”

“Why did Satan want you to make a star?”

The demon swallowed, hard. “Didn’t. Had just started it when I fell.”

“You mean you’ve been growing this since _the fall_?” A tiny nod in reply. “Oh Good—” Aziraphale choked off the prayer with a swallow. “So Hell-”

“Doesn’t know. Can’t know. Can’t live like that.”

“Like what?” But on this the demon just pressed his lips to a thin line and looked away.

“This would be so much easier if I had a nurturing angel here. Can I call for help?” Crawly silently turned back to him, his expression aggressively neutral. “Oh dear, they’ll just kill you, won’t they? Heaven isn’t going to help me save the life of a very dangerous demon. I mean, I have the spark, but without a third to receive the creation… could we get another demon?”

“NO!”

Aziraphale held his hand up in supplication, “Sorry, yes, you’ve mentioned haven’t you, the other demons can’t know.” He lost himself in thought and prayer once more, when a tentative voice interrupted.

“You have… you’ve the spark? You’re an alpha?”

“I used to work as a cherubim with the Almighty, before Eden so... I’m a Principality now, though, but yes I can make the spark. I’ve never heard of an alpha before.”

Hope seemed to bloom in the demon, and it made a similar bloom of warmth spread throughout Aziraphale’s chest. An idea struck him and he scurried over to the demon in his eagerness. He grabbed the demon's hand and held it in both his.

“The void! Oh dear one, I can pull us both into the void between planes of existence! And I can help you try to bring your creation to fruition where it’ll be safe for everyone else, in case it all goes pear shaped. No one will be at risk but us, there in the vast empty void between.”

The demon swallowed, looking from their clasped hands to Aziraphale's eyes. He whispered, “You’d risk yourself, just to save me?”

“Well of course I would, I’m an angel. I was put on earth to protect God’s creatures and watch over them.”

A conflict of some sort played out across Crawly’s features, but that spark of hope lingered. That’s what cemented it for Aziraphale, the light of hope. Something deep inside him yearned to foster that, to see this demon safe and comforted. To see him smile and joke, like he had on the wall. He wanted to touch him, to wrap his arms around him. It was the same vague urge that had made him shelter the demon under his wing so long ago. 

“Let’s go now,” Aziraphale said and gathered Crawly up to carry him. It took a rather large miracle to pull them both into the void, but when they were there he didn’t let go, instead raising a gentle hand up to the demon's face, cradling his cheek as he held him. In the void there was nothing, no light or sensation but what they brought with them. Their bodies existed simultaneously in their corporeal and incorporeal states, but Aziraphale was careful not to let their essences touch this time. He sent out one last prayer. _Let us not be so different that giving him a spark of creation will annihilate him. Lord, lend me the strength to both give and receive this creation safely by myself, so that we both may live, unless you will it otherwise._

“Ready?” 

“Ngk...Yes.” 

"Okay. I'm going to give it to you now."

Aziraphale took a moment to center himself, and reached into his core where his divinity was, and felt it spark, a lightning bolt of warm creation straight out of the center of his being, shooting from him and down his arm, into the demon Crawly with no resistance. 

Crawly gasped and jerked, arching his back. “Its.. ssssssss’working. I’m-” 

And then Aziraphale felt it, the massive creation coming out of Crawly. And Oh, it was violence incarnate, struggling to go nova before it even existed. The very nanosecond it exited it was going to obliterate them. Aziraphale felt his body tremble, a cold sweat breaking out. He was going to have to be supernaturally fast, and perfectly accurate in his timing. Too early and he'd send Crawly to his death, too late and they'd both go. 

Aziraphale gathered himself to perform another massive miracle and then, it was time. He snapped and banished the new star to the far reaches of the universe, where it exploded safely away from anything else.

Then, there was quiet.

Aziraphale let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and a small noise escaped with it. He couldn’t take any more breaths, seeing as there was no air in the void, and he missed the calming effects of breathing.

“Crawly?”

But there was no answer. Frantic, he clutched and clawed at the demon, who seemed whole. He was still warm, just limp and unresponsive again. Another large miracle and he pulled them out of the void and back into his little hut, where he nestled the demon back on his pallet of furs. Crawly was breathing again, gently, his eyes closed in what appeared to be sleep. Aziraphale peeked at his body, and the wounds were looking better too, as if they were starting to heal up.

“You poor creature. You’ve been through a lot, I’m sure you'll need some time to recover.” Aziraphale groaned and wrung his hands. “Dear me, Heaven will know I just did several extremely large, unsanctioned miracles. They’ll check up on me and see you here.” He stood and started pacing. “They can’t see me together with a demon, they’ll destroy you after all that… I need to go. I’ll um, yes I’ll just go report in first! Then there’ll be no need to come all the way down here to check. Oh, but you’re so vulnerable right now, I don't want to just leave you…”

He pulled his fingers, fretting. “I don’t think I have a choice. Let me just,” and he snapped, using a small miracle to make the shack nigh undetectable unless you already knew it was there. “There we are, that should keep you hidden. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He bent down and smoothed back hair from the demon’s brow, giving him a go over to make sure he was warm and comfortable. He banked the fire and took one last, long look before he returned to Heaven. 

When Crawly woke up again he felt so much better. His essence was a bit tattered, but his body was at least healed and fully functional again. The pain was mostly gone, just a soul-ache permeating his existence with a haze of discomfort, and he was exhausted. On the bright side, he was warm and comfortable nestled in a pile of furs, still in the angel’s hut. He got up and realized he was naked, and snapped his finger to materialize some robes. 

Nothing happened, and he glared down at his nudity. With a grunt, he picked out the largest fur in the pile. He snapped, and this time he managed to miracle a hole in the center, so he stuck his head through as a makeshift garment before making his way outside. 

And there, sitting up against a tree nearby was the angel, who turned and perked up as soon as he saw him. 

“Crawly! You’re awake. How are you feeling? All better?”

“Uh.” Crawly wasn’t sure what, if anything, he wanted to share, nor how to do so. “S’fine.”

“Good, good. You were asleep for a long time.”

Crawly blinked, looking around, “How long?”

“A few months, I believe.”

 _Fuck me. Hell’s gonna be pissed I’m not done yet,_ he thought. He looked up at the angel and gestured down the road. “I um, I have work to get back to. Demonic stuff, ‘n… you know.”

“Of course.”

Crawly started off but then froze, fear rearing up. He turned and spoke over his shoulder as casually as he could manage.

“Did you… Did you tell anyone?”

“Of a sort. I had to perform some very large miracles to help you and I didn’t want Heaven to come investigate and find you in such a state. So I left to report to them.”

Crawly’s blood ran cold and he whipped around. “You told Heaven?”

“Not really. Well, a little. I said that I had found a demon who was about to commit suicide by unhatched creating, and were he successful would have wiped out all of humanity. And that with some powerful miracles I was able to stop him and prevent that, sending the explosion to the outer reaches of the universe instead. The archangels were as surprised as I was that any demons retained the ability to create, so that was apparently news to them. I was congratulated on a job well done and sent back.”

“Did you say it was me?”

“No, no, no. I just said it was ‘a demon.’ I never said your name. And I believe they may have interpreted what I said to mean that said demon had died.”

“Thanksss.”

“My pleasure. I saw how distraught you were that anyone might find out you were an alpha.”

“Omega.”

“Beg pardon?”

“I’m an omega. You’re an alpha.”

“Oh, right. Haven’t gotten a grip on your hellish terminology yet. Angels came first so we're the alphas.” 

“No, it's not… chronology. Just, no. It doesn't matter if you're an angel or a demon. Alphas are the ones able to start a creation inside an omega. Omegas grow them."

"Well, what about the angels and demons who do neither and have supporting roles? What are they called?"

"Betas."

"Now that doesn't make any sense at all. Alpha, I understand, after all we are the closest to God and start the whole chain of events, but shouldn't the next step, which are the flame carrying forgers, be called betas and call those who help at the end and after be the omegas?"

"It's not based on the order of operations, angel, it's their rank in the hierarchy."

"But why would you rank someone with less abilities rank above someone with more? Plus, there were always so few with either spark or flame, they're so valuable. Doesn't that count for something in Hell?”

"Yeah, but…" Crawly blinked slowly, trying and failing to grasp at how to explain that rarity made you very outnumbered, and being valuable just meant worth controlling, which was why omegas had been changed into possessions and not persons and not really got a say in it. Slavery had yet to be invented by humans, who had barely begun oppressing one another. The angel was already having a lot of trouble understanding that pecking orders weren't always merit based, adding the possibility of exploitation and power struggles influencing them was probably beyond his ken. 

"They just are that way. Doesn't have to make sense, it's Hell."

Aziraphale nodded, accepting this easily. 

"Right. Well, um… bye then." Crawly said, and left. He had a city to corrupt. Aziraphale waved goodbye with a smile, and something twinged inside Crawly to see it. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the story of how Aziraphale became papa to an entire galaxy! And why he thinks that if he touches Crowley he'll kill him.
> 
> This is the opener for a series of connected stories in this universe. I debated making it chapters in one longer story but decided a series would suit better, so look forward to more if you enjoyed this world/setup. Stay tuned to find out what Heaven gets up to now that they know Hell can make more demons, and Crowley trying out this "heat" business. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos sustain me as a writer and a human! Copyediting or editing comments are welcome (this was only barely beta'd by the lovely ItstheKiks). You can also find me on Tumblr (Serafaina) and the Ace Omens discord server (Fuuma).


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